


Cat's Paws

by Sanjuno



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Both of which are a bit more literal than you're probably expecting, Everything is Uri's fault, F/F, F/M, For fun and profit and continued survival, Gokudera Hayato is too smart for his own good, Just Add Kittens, M/M, Metaphysics, Multi, Not the usual, People make assumptions about the 10th Gen, Rewriting Reality, Sawada Nana's characterization is a good thing for once, They are hilariously wrong about everything, Time Travel Fix-It, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2018-12-20 05:08:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11913861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanjuno/pseuds/Sanjuno
Summary: There have always been stories. Myths. Whispers of the otherkin, the demons and spirits and monsters who walk among humans, disguised as human themselves. Changeling children, infants stolen from their cradles and replaced withsomething else.Civilians dismissed the stories as superstitious nonsense dreamed up by their more primitive ancestors to explain the things they did not understand.Members of the shadowy Underworld, who knew of Flames and their Uses, tended to blame bored Mists.Thanks to the combined efforts of a large number of Flame Familiars, led in their attempt to rewrite History by a certain Storm Leopard who paid more attention to her Master's hobbies than was really advisable, the world at large was going to learn they shouldnevermake unilateral assumptions.





	1. They say that cats can walk through walls.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, another new pilot chapter for another new story. I know you all want more Karmic Balance and I'm working on it. In the meantime please try to enjoy the stuff I had sitting in the backlog queue.
> 
> At first I considered leaving the last scene of this chapter out, since there's such a large time gap, but in the end I decided why the hell not. Plus, not only does this leave some things a mystery, but it also moves the story along a bit faster to when the exciting things start happening.

=/=

**(When things go wrong the Vongola Descend Into Madness and _usually_ take the rest of the world along with them.)**

Uri was _not_ pleased. Yes, perhaps she had been a bit _too_ strict about disciplining the human kitten who had thought himself her Master, but that did not mean he was supposed to go off and hunt by _himself_! The Storm Leopard screamed even as she ran, digging deep for the power she had always needed a boost of Sun Flames to reach before. Uri’s angry screech deepened as she grew, the snarling roar cutting through the night as her speed tripled. The longer, stronger legs of her adult form propelling her forward in a way her kitten-sized body just was not capable of.

Uri smelled the smoke first. The chemicals-and-flint-powder burns that came from her Master’s explosions. Triumph was overshadowed by the scent of blood. The Storm Leopard did not stop, racing out onto the battlefield. Her yowling calls echoed strangely amid the crumbled walls and cratered ground. Uri ignored everything except finding her kitten-Master. Too much of the blood smelled like him. Smelled like storms and pride and _where was he_? Uri screamed another call, breathing deep to try and catch a hint of his trail.

“… nhh… uri…?” The large cat lunged forward, scrambling over a crumbled wall to where her half-grown kitten of a Master lay bloodied and still amidst the rubble. Green eyes were glazed and dull, each slow blink cumulating in a struggle to raise heavy lids. “Uri, you… grew up on… y’r ‘wn, hn…?”

The scent of death was thick in the air and growing more prominent with every slow, rattling breath her wounded Master took. Uri moaned in denial, edging forward and wrapping herself around his pale, bloody form in a protective curl. Her tongue rasped gently over torn skin as Uri groomed disheveled silver hair. Where was the Alpha? Where was her Master’s pride? Where were the loud yellow humans who healed? They should be here! They should _know_ that their pride-mate needed them, just like Uri had known!

“… y’ll b’ g’d f’r… tsuna-sama…” Her Master tried to lift a hand, gasping in pain as the broken things inside his chest shifted around with the movement. “T’nth’ll… t’ke g’d care’ve y’… g’d girl, Uri…”

No. Nonononono. Uri keened as green eyes closed and _did not open back up_ and he breathed out a sigh and _his chest stilled_ and no. _No_ , she refused to let this happen _again_.

An interesting thing to note about pets is how very closely they resemble humans in their moods and whimsies and casual cruelties… and in their wholehearted devotion to what they love. The box-weapon animals were taken a step further. Merged with Dying Will Flames and linked on a deep metaphysical level to the spirits of their owners. The Gokudera of the future and the Gokudera of the past may have been the same person, but they were _not_ identical. Being left behind (abandoned) like that had _hurt_ the Storm Leopard in a way that was hard to accurately describe in words. It had made Uri angry, not understanding why her Master was so different, and so she had lashed out… but she had also _learned_ from that time loop debacle. While it may not be possible to bring the dead back to life, it _was_ possible to go back to a point before death came for them and change the outcome of the hunt. Humans needed their technology and could only travel within their own lifetimes. Humans needed an equal exchange between the past self and the future-self. Uri did not need all of that. Uri did not need _any_ of that. Uri was no longer an entirely corporeal being. Mortal rules were more like… guidelines for creatures that shared her unique state of being.

Normally what Uri proceeded to do would never have worked. Except Gokudera was the Vongola Storm Guardian, a member of the Tri-Ni-Sette, one of the three pillars what upheld creation. Except Gokudera loved the occult and the mysteries of the unexplained. Except Dying Will Flames, that unique blend of determination and faith that burned against the restrictions of the world, those Flames had the power to bend reality around their desires. Except gods and demons, spirits and heroes, they all came from somewhere. Not born but _made_ , forged in the fires of the human heart and molded by the collective human imagination. Except Gokudera had shared his thoughts with Uri, on long dark nights when the pain from his scars kept him from sleeping.

Gokudera was really very smart, and that too was a quality he had shared freely with Uri.

Technology had not saved Uri’s Master. Technology had _failed_ to save her Pride. Not only once, but _twice_. There would be no third time. It was time to try something different. Something older, something _ancient_ , and forgotten. Something long dismissed as fantasy and children’s stories.

As Gokudera’s Flame flickered and faded Uri gathered it all up, every tiny ember of his heart and spark of his thoughts until the entirety of the burning spirit that was _Gokudera Hayato_ was held carefully in her jaws. A red hurricane of a soul carried like a kitten by the nape as Uri turned and left the material plane.

The flashover destroyed the battlefield, and burned even stone and metal to ash. Uri left, and the foundations of the world trembled in her wake.

=/=

**(Box Animals have feelings too.)**

One of the unexpected side effects of exposing animals to concentrated Dying Will Flames and linking them to matching Flame Users were the boost in intelligence. Box animals were sapient, if not fully sentient. Capable of complex thinking and long term planning. In attempting to create weapons with a small degree of independent initiative, the developers had instead created artificial intelligences. Like a witches’ Familiar. A strange amalgamation of technologically assisted metaphysical bonding and supernaturally influenced physical augmentation.

The way Schrödinger’s boxes gave physics a rude hand gesture with math complex enough to give the layman a migraine was in its own way a kind of magic. Clarke’s Law states that any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. Technology is human ingenuity given form and function. Any sufficiently analyzed magic is indistinguishable from technology. Magic, then, is simply that spark of human creativity taken one step further. Magic was just science that ignored the limitations of reality. Time is just another limitation ignored by both magic and technology.

When Natsu appeared, the orange sky of Tsuna’s soul held in much the same way Uri held Gokudera’s, Uri was not surprised.

(Uri had informed all of the others, once, of what she planned to do if her Master tried to leave her behind again. It was no surprise that the King would think it a good plan. That was the purpose of the Storm, after all. Upheaval and destruction and the ability to sweep over everything that stood in their path. Her Master was the plan maker, the Alpha’s second. It was sad, but not a surprise, that the Alpha would also fall after losing his tactician and Right Hand.)

The rest of the others appeared then, souls in every colour of the Rainbow held possessively (protectively) close. What had been seconds for Uri had been days, or weeks, or months, or years for the others. In the end though, they were all here. Uri snarled a huff, disappointed but unsurprised.

Natsu looked at Bester. Bester looked at Natsu. What to do now? They were all here, together. Now was the time to choose, because once they left they would be scattered and weak and at the mercy of linear time once again. It would be decades before the Pride would hunt at full strength again.

Uri coughed, rolling her eye in a manner clearly inherited from her Master. _Males_ , bah. Red eyes glared at the Sky Kings and then Uri deliberately looked around at the others. Predators and prey. Carnivores and omnivores and herbivores. Creatures of every Flame type and combination. Each by their natures fundamentally _different_. A house divided against itself _falls_. A Pride that cannot hunt together _starves_. What they needed to survive, what they needed to win, what they had been missing every time before and never really made note of. What they needed, now, before they went any further with this plan, was Harmony.

Bester looked at Natsu. Natsu looked at Bester. Well, yes. Yes, there _was_ a reason the King let the Leopard boss him around. Females were _good_ at the whole large-scale planning thing. Bester could only agree.

Natsu and Bester looked at their mix-matched Pride and hesitated. Asking if they were _sure_ they wanted to take this step. It would be _very_ different for them afterwards. They would all be fundamentally changed. Roll hissed, spines lifting, and demanded that the Kings get on with it before they ran out of time and the human souls they guarded lost coherency without bodies to anchor them. Kangryuu, struggling to hold separate two souls of cheerfully merging yellow and indigo, desperately agreed.

The Kings acknowledged the Will of their Pride, and the Skies _roared_.

=/=

**(There is such a thing as being _too accepting_ and Sawada Nana likes to set long distance records jumping over that line.)**

Sawada Nana was not as dumb as people liked to think. She had known going into her marriage that she would have to make sacrifices to maintain a happy life. Nana had known that Iemitsu would never tell her what he did for a living, and that the best method Nana had for keeping them all safe was to act like an airhead and accept every story Iemitsu fed her without question. Nana loved her husband with every breath in her body, and she would kill without hesitation or regret to protect her precious baby boy. It did not matter to Nana if Iemitsu was a government spy or a freelance bounty hunter or a criminal assassin. Nana loved her husband, adored her son beyond reason, and she would do her best to keep them safe.

Still, when her darling little Tsu-chan tripped while learning to walk and turned into a fuzzy lion cub with a squall of frustration, Nana had to pause and reconsider her stance on not asking questions. Iemitsu’s secrets were apparently a _lot_ more interesting than Nana had previously assumed.

“… A nekomata?” Nana tilted her head to the side as she eyed the split tail, twin pinpricks of orange flame tufting the ends. Nana knelt and gently scratched her son’s furry ears. The orange flames tracing Tsuna’s spine were warm, and tingled when she touched them, but they did not burn. Nana giggled and tried to stave off hysteria. “I suppose lions are cats too, ne, Tsu-chan? A lion probably has a much better chance of living for one hundred years than a housecat. A least now Mama knows why Papa always manages to come back for Tanabata!”

Sweet kami, she had married an _ayakashi_. No wonder Iemitsu was gone so often. Nana sat back on her heels as Tsuna attempted to figure out how his paws worked and bit her lip as she thought. All the stories said that when the mortal half of a mixed marriage discovered their spouse’s true nature the ayakashi half of the pair would be forced to leave. It was in their nature. Nana could not, full stop, ask Iemitsu about this. Not if she had any desire to keep her husband and son in her life and by her side. So. Nana was going to have to do her best to teach Tsu-chan to control his gifts on her own.

Nana had owned cats before. Raising Tsu-chan could not be much harder than teaching a stray not to claw up her couches. After all, at least Tsu-chan would understand Japanese! Nana lifted the stumbling cub off the floor and rubbed his fuzzy back, fingers catching on the downy little wing nubs perched on Tsuna’s shoulder blades.

“Not just a nekomata then.” Nana hummed and gently ticked Tsuna’s belly. Her son purred and licked her fingers enthusiastically. “I suppose Mama’s going to have to do some research, ne, Tsu-chan?”

Tsunayoshi’s flame-tipped tails swished through the air as he purred himself to sleep in his mother’s warm arms.

=/=

**(Once you find your common ground, you _stand on it_.)**

“Hayato! Be quiet!” The pink haired girl dragged her brother deeper into the shadows as a pair of vaguely familiar men walked passed the mouth of the alley the two children were hidden in. Bianchi sighed in relief as her father’s enforcers disappeared around the corner of the next street. Ignoring the way her younger brother thrashed in her arms, the pre-teen headed deeper into the labyrinthine back streets in search of a private enough place to have a screaming argument with Hayato.

Since, _of course_ they were going to shout at each other. They were both _Storms_ , and that made for tempestuous sibling relations to say the least. Hayato was dumb, and a boy, and stubborn, and _Hayato_. He would listen to her eventually, but Bianchi would have to raise her voice for a while beforehand. “Ouch!”

Sharp, _sharp_ , pointy little teeth dug into the palm of her hand and Bianchi shoved Hayato away on reflex. “Hayato! Since when do you _bite_?”

“Since I found out I’m a _bastard_.” Hayato snarled, green eyes bright with both rage and tears. “Since I found out that my _real_ mother is dead and Papa’s a _lying asshole_ and your Mamma _hates_ me because I’m _not her son_! Now why the hell are you following me? _You’re_ the legitimate heir now that I’m out of the way. You always have been!”

“No! No, no, no, _no_!” Bianchi lunged forward, grabbing Hayato’s wrist to hold her brother in place before he decided to bolt. “No! Shut up! I won’t let you leave me alone! I love you, Hayato! I don’t care about Mamma and Papa or anyone else! You’re _my_ little brother, and you’re _eight_. How’re you supposed to survive alone out here? You didn’t know anything about the Mafia before last month!”

“Like eleven is _so much better_?” Hayato sneered, but looked away, unable to direct such a hateful expression at his sister. “… Just leave me alone, Bianchi.”

“I refuse.” Bianchi shook her head, jaw set stubbornly. “Look, Hayato…”

“What’re you going to do, principessa?” Hayato snarled, fear edging on panic lurking just under his rage. “Work the streets? Become a hitman? You need to go home, Bianchi!”

“I already said I refuse!” Bianchi yanked Hayato closer, her grip on the younger child’s wrist just shy of bruising. “And I’ll do it, Hayato! I’ll do whatever it takes to keep us together!”

Hayato stared at his sister. Bianchi’s determined green eyes held Hayato’s own until a stinging pain in his wrist dragged his gaze down. There was blood under Bianchi’s nails. Nails that curved into wicked hooks, pointed claws that belonged on a cat more than anything wearing a human shape. Hayato swallowed and looked back up at his sister’s face. “Bianchi, you…”

Bianchi’s face was white and terrified, but she lifted her chin, eyes glittering like gemstones. Like an alley cat’s reflecting the light of a streetlamp. “I’m more _Hayato’s sister_ than I am Mamma and Papa’s daughter.”

“But…” Hayato shook his head. “But Papa is… isn’t…”

“Papa’s not… like us, Hayato.” Bianchi took the chance and let go of her brother’s wrist in order to cup Hayato’s face in both her hands, leaning in until their foreheads touched. “Papa and Mamma can’t eat my cooking. Only Hayato can.”

“But your cooking’s really good, Bianchi!” Hayato fisted his hands in the lapels of his sister’s jacket. “Your cookies are my favorites!”

“You’re the only one who says that, frattrellito.” Bianchi’s giggle was tearful and she pulled Hayato into a hug. “Everyone else, everyone except for you and me… they get sick and _die_ when they eat my food.”

“Sorella… I’m sorry.” Hayato nuzzled his head under his sister’s chin. “I didn’t… I didn’t know. I promise I won’t leave you alone again, sorella.”

“Good.” Bianchi rubbed her chin over Hayato’s kitten-soft silver hair with a happy purr in her voice. “Now come on, we’ve got to get out of here before Papa’s men find us.”

“Okay.” Hand in hand, the siblings raced down the alleyways. Their light footfalls faded to a whisper of nothing in a rush of red Storm Flames as two feline shadows darted away.

=/=


	2. They say that cats have nine lives.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enrico di Vogola has priorites. His brothers welfare places at the top of his list. Follow by making his Nonna proud. His father, to Timoteo di Vongola's great frustration, is somewhat further down the ranks. Above washing the dishes, but below avoiding his stalkers.
> 
> Giving Enrico a new baby brother doesn't actually improve his opinion of Nono, but it does provide the Heir with a new source of distraction from his father's various shortcomings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone who reads Karmic Balance knows I have a certain, hm... _unique_ take on the Brothers di Vongola. This is the series for everyone who wanted Xanxus and his brothers to all survive and inflict more fluffy family feels on their Guardians for ever and ever and ever.

=/=

**(Enrico di Vongola loves his little brothers and is not afraid to let his father know that.)**

Much like most sons born to be their father’s heir, Enrico di Vongola had issues with his father. What would surprise many, should they ever learn of the grudge Enrico held most against his father, was that it had very little to do with Timoteo di Vongola’s abilities (or, to be brutally accurate, _failures_ ) as a parent.

No. Enrico’s resentment stemmed from the fact that he had _never_ gotten the chance to hold any of his younger brothers while they were infants.

Enrico’s mother had been Timoteo’s first Lightning Guardian, and the only woman among his set. Ganauche I had not taken the transition from the protector to the protected with any kind of grace. When Enrico was two, she resumed her duties as Lightning Guardian. By the time Enrico’s third birthday arrived, she was dead.

Enrico was handed over to his grandmother’s care at the retired Donna’s request (demand.)

Timoteo di Vongola never looked twice at a woman with Active Flames again, choosing only male Guardians. When the pressure to remarry came, as it was bound to, along with the demand for a spare Heir, Timoteo chose a Flame Null socialite. It was a transparent attempt to avoid a repeat of his first marriage. She was from a very minor Sky Line, with impressive political connections, which quieted some of the complaints from those worried about the Vongola bloodline’s fading power. Especially after Massimo was born, and the tests showed a strong chance of Sky Flames. The grumbles died entirely when Federico was born two years after Massimo, with an equally strong leaning towards Sky Flames.

It was speculated that a Sky having a child with one of their Bonded Guardians had a higher chance of that child having Sky Flames themselves. Making it something of an unspoken rule to try and have at least one Guardian of the opposite sex in a Sky’s set. So, while Timoteo’s choice for his second wife was not actively _against_ Tradition, his refusal to consider any Flame Active prospects skirted the line.

At the time this was all going on, Enrico was entirely content in his Nonna’s care. Daniela di Vongola and her Guardians provided for all of Enrico’s physical, educational, and emotional needs. There was little to no personal investment, on Enrico’s side of things, in the man he only had a vague intellectual awareness of. Enrico knew he _had_ a father, but the man he saw only in passing and at holiday meals made no real impact on Enrico’s life or psyche.

That changed when Timoteo di Vongola’s second wife died. Enrico was ten, only a few weeks shy of starting at the Academy. Massimo was a few months past his fifth birthday, and Federico was three and a half. This was the point at which Enrico di Vongola met his little brothers for the first time in his life.

“Enrico.” The Ninth had looked tired and strained. “These are your younger brothers. Massimo, Federico, say hello to your big brother.”

Massimo, in a manner that would become comical in retrospect, had been _highly offended_. “But _I’m_ supposed to be the oldest!”

“Hello!” Federico had looked vaguely confused. “I’m Fede?”

“Hello, Fede.” Enrico smiled at the toddler, pleased when his baby brother grinned back at him. The he glanced at Massimo, taking in the middle brother’s pout. “And Massimo. You’re too short to be the oldest.”

“I am not!” The tantrum that had followed shocked Enrico. Nonna had _never_ let Enrico get away with screaming like that.

Later, Enrico would learn that their mother had never told Massimo and Federico about their father having an older child from his first marriage. So Massimo’s anger over being displaced was understandable, in hindsight. At the time, all Enrico could do was watch without comprehension as his little brother started howling. Federico started to cry at the noise. Nonna had sighed, and glared at her son.

“This _nonsense_.” Daniela di Vongola had stated with icy certainty. “Will not be allowed to continue.”

Timoteo had agreed and beat a hasty retreat.

With three living heirs to his name, all with Sky Flames, and two wives now in the ground, there was no new pressure for Timoteo to marry again. Such freedom was, perhaps, the best explanation for the events brought to light when Enrico was eighteen.

/…/

“Ganauche II.” The Ninth Generation Lightning Guardian froze as Enrico called out. “ _What_ are you doing with that child?”

“Enrico.” Ganauche greeted, well aware of the scene he was presenting to someone unaware of the details. “Nono placed him in my care for now.”

“… Really.” Enrico looked pointedly at the way Ganauche had to extend his arm, the boy having pulled as far away from the Lighting as he could to the point he was being dragged down the hall.

“It’s the Don’s business, Enrico.” Ganauche tried, but after a very memorable and _loudly public_ argument wherein a fifteen-year-old Enrico had informed Ganauche that he was ‘not my mother!’ the Lightning Guardian had never been able to reclaim any sort of authority over the Heir. Even if, as the Ninth’s Bonded Guardian, Ganauche technically outranked Enrico until the day Enrico took over as the Tenth. That did not stop Ganauche from trying. “Leave it.”

“How about no.” Enrico rebutted cheerfully, a familiar rage building under his skin. He had spent the last _five years_ dodging various Guardian candidates who were only trying to Court him because Enrico was _Vongola_. They had all had the _exact_ same aura of self-righteousness that Ganauche II had. Enrico was the _Heir_ , and he was _not_ going to stand for being dismissed like a servant by a _replacement_. “Let the boy _go_ , Ganauche II.”

“Enrico…” The warning never went any further, because the boy took advantage of Ganauche’s distraction. Blood flew, and the Lightning _screamed_ while all but throwing the child away from him in reflex.

A rumbling yowl, eerily animalistic, like an extra-large alley cat had gotten _angry_ echoed down the hallway. Blinking, Enrico looked down into narrow red eyes set in a too-thin face. He had moved without thinking to catch the boy before he hit the wall. What was Ganauche II thinking, tossing the boy like that? What if one of the paintings had been knocked loose? Those frames were _metal_! He could have been crushed!

“Hello there.” Luckily, the child seemed to like Enrico much better than he like Ganauche. “I’m Enrico. What’s your name?”

“… Xanxus.” The kid darted at wary look at Ganauche, and then turned back to stare up at Enrico in apparent fascination.

“A good name! My goodness, Ganauche II, stop making such a mess.” Enrico grinned as the Lightning struggled to put pressure on the bleeding rents dug down his arm. “I’ll watch Xanxus while you go clean up.”

Ganauche was white, looking from the bloody mess of his arm to where Enrico stood with the savage little street rat all but purring under his chin. “You…”

“What is going on here?” Timoteo di Vongola looked from his Lightning to his eldest son’s bare-tooth grin and felt a headache even larger than the one he had just finished dealing with coming on. “Enrico. I see you’ve met Xanxus.”

“Hello, Papa!” That expression right there was all Daniela di Vongola, right down to the dagger-sharp use of affection to make an unspoken point _stick_. “Why is your Lightning Guardian kidnapping little boys?”

Not for the first time, Timoteo regretted leaving all of his Heir’s raising to his mother. Enrico favored going on the attack a little too much for Timoteo’s peace of mind. Hopefully Enrico would calm down once they found him some proper Guardians.

“Xanxus’ mother has left him in my care.” Nono said carefully as Brow Nie went to help Ganauche with his bleeding arm. What on earth had happened here? Enrico had never liked Ganauche, but he had never outright attacked the Lightning before either.

“Now why would she do a silly thing like that?” Enrico mused, eyeing his father as the boy in his arms glared at everyone except Enrico himself.

Might as well begin as he meant to go on. Enrico would be a good measure of how the rest of the Alliance would react to the announcement. “Because Xanxus is my son. Which makes him your brother.”

Xanxus hissed, eyes wide as Enrico went utterly still, amber Flames wreathing them in a cornea of flickering light.

“Oh.” Enrico blinked, an odd smile on his face. “Well. That explains it.”

Timoteo frowned. “Explains what?”

“Why he felt like he was mine.” Enrico ignored the pole-axed look on his father’s face and beamed at Xanxus. “Come along, fratrelitto. You look like you could use a bath. And some food. Then you can meet Massimo and Federico and Nonna, if you want.”

“Enrico.” The Vongola Don frowned as his eldest son made to walk away. This was _not_ how he had envisioned the little Wrath bastard’s introduction to his Heir going.

“Papa.” Enrico chided, frowning over his shoulder but showing no signs of turning around or waiting to be dismissed. “I know you don’t have much actual experience with caring for children, but _please_. Xanxus is obviously exhausted and you’ve taken away his mamma. Don’t make it worse by forcing him to stay with people he can’t trust.”

Stymied, Nono watched his Heir walk off. Well. That had backfired on him spectacularly. A bastard for Timoteo to show obvious favour for should have brought Enrico to heel with shows of loyalty and obedience. A bastard taken in off the streets who would have been thankful and beholden to Timoteo for everything, and who would therefore do _anything_ Timoteo set him to. Unlikely, now that Enrico had swooped in to be the hero.

… At least Enrico had believed him about the boy’s parentage, despite the transparent lie. Timoteo was unsure if he should be insulted by how easily his Heir had taken the news of a bastard brother or not, but at least that much was going to plan.

/…/

Getting Xanxus clean took longer than Enrico had originally estimated. Not because the boy objected to bathing, but because Xanxus _wanted_ to stay in the water. For as long as possible. It had taken all of Enrico’s considerable persuasive powers to convince Xanxus to let Enrico drain the dirty water after the initial scrubbing was over. Once the dirt was rinsed away, Enrico had tossed in a bath bomb, refilled the tub, and left his new baby brother to soak.

At least Xanxus would be easier to keep clean than Massimo had been at that age. The middle (eldest-middle, now that Xanxus was here) di Vongola son did _not_ like getting his face wet. It had made bath time quite the chore for his minders.

Idly, Enrico wondered if Xanxus had a phobia too. Enrico could _not_ put up with people standing behind him. Hopefully that would change once he found his Guardians, because his brother’s did not trigger the same sort of alarm that anyone else did. As it was, all of Enrico’s tutors and assistants had quickly learned to keep to the Heir’s front or be shot at. Massimo had learned to swim with the same grim determination that Enrico used to get through his Academy classes when he failed to snag the back row seat. Then Massimo had stayed well away from any source of water bigger than a birdbath. Federico, oddly enough, had panic attacks when confronted with roses. Other flowers were fine, but roses set him off in hysterics.

Shaking his head, Enrico rang for a maid. He would need more towels once Xanxus was done his bath. The kid would need clothes, too. Enrico doubted that anything that had been brought in with Xanxus had been kept. Hopefully Nonna had saved some of her grandson’s old things. Xanxus was too small for anything Federico wore now to fit him.

That done, Enrico pondered how best to question a malnourished street child about lingering trauma and inborn phobias.

/…/

While the waiting on the maid to find something close to Xanxus’ size, Enrico pulled one of his own shirts over the child’s head to keep him decently covered. That done, Enrico started drying Xanxus’ hair, amused by the way it fluffed up. Who knew what sort of bugs he had picked up on the streets, and his immune system was doubtlessly compromised. A cold might very well kill him!

Enrico stopped tousling long enough to wrap Xanxus in his robe too, and was pleased to see the shivering stop.

“Enrico?” Xanxus peered up at him with wary red eyes. Dios, the kid looked familiar. From one of the portraits, maybe? Their family had enough of them hanging around the place. “When will my mamma come back?”

Enrico paused and pulled the towel away. “I don’t know, fratrelitto. I’ll have to ask Papa.”

Xanxus frowned, upset by the non-answer, and Enrico found himself frowning too.

Once away from his father and the man’s overbearing tendency to coat the immediate area in his Flames, Enrico had belatedly realized that Xanxus was an Active Sky. There was an odd _edge_ to the Flames, a certain amount of sharpness, and he was young for it, but the Harmony was unmistakable. Enrico had grown up with _four_ Skies in him immediate family. He knew what a Sky felt like, and what his _brothers_ Skies felt like. Xanxus’ Sky had cleaved to Enrico’s own Sky the same way Massimo and Federico’s Flames had done the moment his younger brothers went Active. Nonna and Papa’s Flames had never done that, so Enrico knew it had something to do with them all being brothers.

The one time Enrico had brought it up with Nonna, right after Massimo had gone Active, the retired Donna had looked startled, and questioned him for nearly an hour. They had never managed to come up with any definite answers. Nonna’s brothers had all died, and even before that their reserves were too low for Activation. Nonna had looked regretful, and Enrico had never mentioned it again. Not even when Federico went Active, and the same merging of their Skies had happened again.

Through the Resonance between their Skies, Enrico could _feel_ Xanxus’ mother. A Rainy Mist, turned in on herself like a mirror-house trap. Massive amounts of Scorching, like someone had carpet-bombed her soul. The spirit wound was old and deeply knotted and… partially healed?

Enrico blinked, and probed the bond Xanxus’ had to his mother again. Yes. There was an old, unwanted bond underneath, one that had been torn out by the roots. The damage lingered, but it was healing. Slowly, but still healing. With Xanxus’ Flames curled softly around the edges to nudge things along.

Damned impressive, considering how the kid was working entirely on instinct and Enrico had not even _known_ that Scorching was fixable. Exactly how strong _was_ his baby brother?

Funhouse mirrors splintered. _Shattered_. The tether between mother and son snapped loose without warning. Enrico’s Flames _leapt_ and mirror-shards cut his unthinking, instinctual grasp.

( _He would need to deal with that later. Still, **how** could they manage to… and from so far away…_ )

Xanxus collapsed, screaming. A wild, pained screech that ended in a feline yowl ringing in Enrico’s ears.

Between one stunned heartbeat and the next, Enrico found his arms wrapped around a distressed liger cub, tiny wings beating against his chest. “Madre di Dios!”

Bundling Xanxus into the robe the cub was still half wrapped in, Enrico left his personal apartments at a headlong run. “ _Nonna!_ ”

/…/

Daniela was only halfway through lambasting her son for yet _another_ example of his lackluster parenting abilities when her eldest grandson burst into her sitting room. Timoteo looked relieved, but if he thought he was off the hook for this misstep he had another think coming! The servants took _great_ pleasure in telling the retired Donna _everything_ her son got up to. Which now included taking in his by-blow before shipping off the mother without making any sort of arrangements for her future care. Even if the woman was ‘just’ a firefly that was _not_ an acceptable way to act!

“Nonna!” Enrico ignored his father completely, arms full of terrycloth and was that a cat? “Nonna, we need to call Lal Mirch!”

“What?” That was no _ordinary_ cat. Daniela blinked, and blinked again as the liger cub in Enrico’s arms loosed a mewling kitten cry. Sad and alone and lost and were those _Sky Flames_? What on _earth_ was going on? Why did the cub have _wings_? “Grandson?”

“This is Xanxus, Papa’s son, my newest baby brother. We were talking about his mamma and I felt their bond break and then he _changed_ , Nonna.” Enrico tucked the distraught kitten under his chin, face pinched with sympathetic pain. “We need to call in Lal Mirch.”

“Enrico.” Timoteo frowned, eyeing the cub dubiously. “This is not a matter for the CEDEF.”

“Learn to listen, Timoteo. We don’t _want_ the CEDEF, just Commander Mirch.” Ignoring her son’s offended bluster, Daniela considered the issue. Enrico’s instincts, as they so often proved to be, were spot on. “Someone get me a phone.”

“Mother! You can’t just.” Timoteo winced, sitting back in the face of his mother’s glare and his eldest son’s scowl.

“Xan’s mother felt like a Rainy Mist. Commander Mirch was a Rain before her Scorching, and a Misty Cloud after it.” Enrico explained with strained patience. Sometimes it felt like his father was a little too invested in making sure things went to plan to bother adapting to changes in the situation. “If this is the result of something his mother did, then Commander Mirch is our best bet for unraveling it. She’s been turning herself into a giant centipede to terrorize the new field agents for nearly a decade now. We _need to call Lal Mirch_ , Papa.”

The logic was sound. Grudgingly, Timoteo nodded. “I’ll have her sent for.”

(Croquant had best have been thorough. The _last_ thing Timoteo needed was for the delusional firefly to go revealing something she should not. Today’s events had already caused him _more_ than enough problems.)

=/=

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my September Asks over on tumblr, this is 5 of 9 and Pajamapatty wanted kitten!Xanxus in the CP'verse. And then Enrico started babbling about how _adorable_ his little baby brothers are and I swear the man would not shut up. 
> 
> Also apparently CP!Enrico is only ten years older than Xanxus, the same way Xanxus is ten years older than Tsuna. And then he did that other thing! *throws hands up in the air* Who's driving this thing? Not me! Is that a cliff? This is _not my fault!_


	3. Cat Scratch Fever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dino participates in a bit of cultural exchange with Hayato and Kyouya. He comes to regret this in very short order, and then Tsuna gives the visiting Italian Shifters a quick lesson in how the Namimori Pride views the world.
> 
> Dino really wishes that Tsuna had given them this primer a bit earlier. As in, before he was traumatized by unexpected genital piercings and potentially fatal poisoning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following was inspired by the idle musings of Aoife in our copious comment chats. Because horses tend to stick close to one another and group together, while cats will spread out over a pretty wide range despite still technically being part of the same Pride/Colony. So while all the cats are going "Yes, that's Tsuna's Cloud" the horses are confused about who is bonded to who and Dino thinks he's got a shot so he's gonna take it.
> 
> ... Poor Dino. Poor, poor Dino...

=/=

**(Horses are all about the Size Kink. Cats on the other hand…)**

“Cavallone’s a good ally to have.” Smoking Bomb had said, apropos of nothing when Dino had run into the younger shifters coming back from his run on the outskirts of town. “I suppose you could play with him if you really wanted to.”

While Dino had blinked at the freelancer in confusion, Kyouya had bared his teeth in the feral grin, tonfa materializing in a burst of Cloud-laced Mist as Dino dodged Kyouya’s lunge with a yelp. The savage Cloud had made Dino want to prance and rear from the very beginning, so when the _intent_ behind Kyouya’s strikes became obvious Dino nearly tripped over himself in wild excitement.

“Oh!” Kyouya was leading their fight towards a grove that was heavily saturated in familiar feeling Flame Wards. Dino grinned as Kyouya’s next strike ripped most of his shirt away. “Out here? _Really_?”

“Don’t pretend this wasn’t your intent all along, _herbivore_.” Kyouya snorted, managing to look down his nose at the Italian despite Dino being the taller one. “Your crowding is _annoying_.”

“Well, he _is_ a horse.” Smoking Bomb pointed out, draping himself over Kyouya’s back. “So herd-creature or not, he should be at least a _little_ entertaining. One ride wouldn’t hurt.”

“Are you… planning on joining us, Smoking Bomb?” Dino turned his head to one side, looking at the bomber sideways and somewhat confused by his presence. He had noticed that Kyouya and the freelancer seem to get along well, but Dino had been pretty certain that the Storm was one of _Tsuna’s_ mares. His little brother was odd about his mares though, and lacked the possessive territoriality that all the Italian shifters displayed to some degree when interacting with other Skies. Perhaps it was because they were very firmly in Tsuna’s territory instead of meeting on neutral or unclaimed ground. Whatever the cause, the result was one of Tsuna’s mares displaying for Dino, and he… was unsure if he was comfortable with that.

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for the world, bronco.” Heavy lidded green eyes gleamed over a sly smirk. “Besides, Kyouya doesn’t really enjoy playing these kind of games without me.”

“Huh.” Dino blinked as he processed that information, glancing at Kyouya and noting the distinct lack of objection. It was telling that the Cloud was allowing Smoking Bomb to speak for the both of them in these matters, as well as invade the personal space the Cloud guarded so ferociously. “Okay… Anything I need to know?”

“Kyouya’s the only one who fucks me.” Smoking Bomb stretched, the lithe sway of muscles goad and invitation in one. The cat shifter pushed back his silver hair and smirked like he had a secret too entertaining not to share. “Other than that… try not to die too quickly, bronco.”

“I’m… good with that.” Dino felt his cock swell at the thought of mounting Kyouya. Using the Cloud to fuck the mouthy Storm nonverbal was a pretty thought too. It also settled some of the guilt Dino felt over not-quite stealing one of his little brother’s mares. Dino was hyper aware of the fact that his clothes were hanging by threads, and his pants were threatening to split under the growing pressure.

Kyouya’s uniform was pristine as always. Dino wanted to _wreck_ him, to breed the Cloud the way a good, strong mare needed to be bred. That the Smoking Bomb was there to was nearly incidental, but the Storm’s scent was just as enticing as the Cloud’s. The familiar scent of a mare’s readiness made strange and nearly unrecognizable, but still tempting enough to draw him in.

Dino pushed away a second twinge of unease. He was not _actually_ going to claim the Storm, despite the way this liaison was progressing. In fact, it was more along the lines of them sharing the Cloud between them. There was nothing objectionable in two mares playing together despite belonging to different Skies. This was _fine_.

“Strip, herbivore.” Kyouya purred, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. “Prove you’re something worth my time.”

“Oh, I’m _certain_ of it.” Dino grinned in well-deserved pride. He was well aware of the advantages of his shift gave him as a lover. He was looking forward to seeing the proud Cloud squirm as he was mounted. Dino’s other Guardians were _built_ to take him, so it would be interesting to see how a shifter who was _not_ a horse reacted to being filled by him.

Almost as if he could read Dino’s thoughts, Kyouya’s lips twisted in what was almost a smile. “We’ll see.”

“Can’t resist playing with your food, can you?” Smoking Bomb purred, pressing up against Kyouya’s front with a fond smile. The heavy rings on slender fingers made the Storm’s hands look even more elegant by contrast, graceful and quick as they worked at Kyouya’s belt. “Hm? Mmm.”

Kyouya had one hand fisted in silver hair. The other pressed to the small of Smoking Bomb’s back, holding him tight and close. A flare of Mist Flames and their clothes faded away to reveal pale skin, only Smoking Bomb’s jewelry remaining behind. Given the way the stones sparked in reaction to the ebb and surge of Flame, Dino suspected that the adornments were also weapons. It was very much like Kyouya to prefer his bed partners armed and dangerous.

Dino’s mouth went dry and he all but ripped the few remainders of his running clothes off. His cock hung heavy and rampant despite being untouched, anticipation had him more than just eager.

The moment Dino moved forward, the younger shifters separated in their clench enough to twist around and face him fully. Shamelessly Dino slept his eyes over their nakedly displayed bodies, trying to decide where to begin.

“ _WHY ARE THERE TEETH?_ ” Dino’s back hit a tree before the echoes of his screech could fade away.

Kyouya arched a brow, unimpressed by Dino’s high-speed retreat. Smoking Bomb was upright only by virtue of Kyouya’s arm around his waist. In contrast to the Cloud’s disdain, the Storm was laughing too hard to breathe.

Dino felt himself wilting, a side effect of embarrassment and something so close to terror there was no other word for it. Despite the pretty scenery, there was a single jarring detail ruining the mood.

Smoking Bomb and Kyouya were both still hard, and it made the spikes stand out even more. Ring on ring, hooked like shark teeth, and wrapped around their girths from root to only a few inches below the arrowhead flare of their cock tips.

“Herbivore.” Derisive and sharp, Kyouya’s voice snapped Dino out of the horrified haze he had fallen into. “ _Pathetic.”_

“In case it’s _escaped your attention_ , Kyouya.” Dino’s voice was high and hysterical despite his best efforts to sound in control of the situation. “YOUR COCK HAS _TEETH_!”

Kyouya continued to look supremely unimpressed, which was painful to Dino’s pride. Smoking Bomb was still giggling, gasping for air as he looked up at Dino. The silver cat grinned, displaying needle sharp teeth as he pawed at the air with a soft fist. “Rawr.”

… Dino was starting to rethink the wisdom of this liaison, no matter _how_ pretty the Japanese Cloud was.

(Reborn had always _said_ that Dino would get his cock bitten off one day if he insisted on sticking it in everything. It was just that Dino had never thought that he would need to take his former tutor’s warning so _literally_.)

=/=

**(Social norms and gender studies from the standpoint of a Japanese feline shapeshifter.)**

“Oh, Dino-ni.” Tsuna sighed in mild reproof the moment he walked into Dino’s bedroom and saw the truthfully excessive number of superficial-to-minor wounds marking up his torso. Kyouya and Smoking Bomb played _rough_. “I _did_ warn you. Hold still please.”

“Wh- _ow_!” Dino slapped a hand over his newest puncture wound. Tsuna had landed it right on the big vein in his leg! “What was that for?”

“An antivenin.” Tsuna blinked in mild confusion as he capped the auto-injector and tucked it away. “I don’t think Hayato-kun would kill you on _purpose_ , Dino-ni. Especially considering how he let you walk away in once piece after you were done, but I’d prefer to make _sure_ your insides aren’t going to turn into soup.”

“… What the _hell_ , Tsuna.” Dino stared at the younger Sky as Romario straightened, head lifting at the implied threat to his Boss. The implications in Tsuna’s words left Dino feeling chilled. “I know the Smoking Bomb is a Storm, but…”

“I got them, Tsuna!” Takeshi swung into the room trailing Enrico, Xanxus, and Squalo. The Rain ignored Romario’s glare and grinned at Dino after making an obvious visual sweep of the Cavallone Sky’s body. “Oh, hey! You’ve still got all your limbs attached! That was nice of them.”

“ _What_?” Dino and his guardians _stared_ at the Namimori Changelings, searching their faces for some indication that they were joking. Squalo slapped the palm to his forehead, looking pained as Dino flailed. “They wouldn’t _actually_ hurt… we’re allies!”

“Our _human bloodlines_ our allies. And I like you, Dino-ni. I do! And I’m happy we got to meet. But you’re also one of the _rudest_ people I’ve ever met, and you’re _very_ lucky that Hayato-kun is such a dutiful Right-Hand because any other Queen in my Pride would have killed you _weeks_ ago.” Tsuna planted his hands on his hips and glared. The gathered Italians stared in dumbfounded incomprehension. Eyeing the older Skies in dismay, Tsuna slumped, sighed, and raked a hand through his hair. “And… you have no idea what I’m talking about. Great. Fantastic. Okay.”

“This sounds important.” Enrico cut in, patting Tsuna on the shoulder as the youngest Sky in the Vongola bloodline made distressed whining noises. “Why don’t you and your Rain go into the living room and take a moment to gather your thoughts, little cousin. I’ll call my other brothers over so you only have to explain once, and Dino can get cleaned up while we wait.”

“Thank you, itoko.” Leaning briefly into Enrico’s side, Tsuna gave his eldest cousin’s shoulder two quick rubs with his chin before leaving the room with Takeshi in tow. The Japanese Rain was snickering and far too amused for _anyone’s_ peace of mind.

Dino was still bewildered by the fact that his chosen little brother had _yelled_ at him. “What did I do?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but luckily enough Tsuna seems willing to explain. And Dino.” Enrico gave the Cavallone Sky a hard look. “You’re going to _listen_ when he does. One of the reasons we came to Japan is because their Hanyou don’t suffer the way our Changelings do. We came here to learn about ourselves. If this is more than just a clash between cultural mores…”

“It is.” Squalo frowned, claws out and tapping against the hilt of his sword at he stared into the middle distance in that odd way cats had. “Don’t know the details, but… I’ve gotten pissed off every time Bronco went circling that Cloud. And I don’t know _why_.”

Xanxus tilted his head to eye his Rain. “You’ve seen poaching before. Didn’t care then.”

“I wasn’t poaching!” Dino sat up, offended by the accusation. The Vongola stared at him. The silence spoke volumes. “I wasn’t! Was I? Kyouya doesn’t _act_ like a bonded Cloud! I thought…”

“I suspect that will be one of the things our cousin explains to us.” Enrico murmured absently, sending texts to his brothers. Tucking the phone away, Enrico’s brow furrowed thought. “I’ve been busy speaking with the Hibari scholars, so I know I missed a lot, but… Squalo was bothered, Xan, but not you?”

“Noticed it was happening, but…” Scowling, Xanxus shook out his shoulders, tension in his jaw like he was about to start a fight. “Not my business? Felt like, hm, like I was waiting for signal. Didn’t affect _me_ one way or the other until I was tapped in.”

“Interesting.” Enrico rubbed his chin as he considered that information. Blinked, and shook his head. “Dino, we’ll meet you downstairs. Mas and Fede should be here in about thirty minutes.”

“Alright…” The Cavallone Tenth replied absently, obviously trying to process the implications of their conversation so far. Romario was frowning from his place beside Dino’s bed, obviously wanting to say something and just as obviously not wanting to say it in front of their visitors.

The Vongola left them to it, more than eager for the information the coming discussion would provide that promised to clarify many things about their instincts.

/…/

“So. First things first.” Tsuna started speaking once all the visiting Skies were settled in Dino’s living room. “Dino-ni, Kyouya-sempai is my fully bonded Cloud Guardian, please stop trying to Court him. It’s no longer funny and has started to become irritating to more than just me.”

Groaning in embarrassment, Dino slumped in his chair and hid his face behind his coffee cup. “ _Dios mio_ , Tsuna, I’m so sorry. I thought… that doesn’t matter. I was in the wrong and I apologize for intruding on your set. I’ll apologize to Kyouya too.”

“Might want to hold off on that for a bit.” Takeshi chimed in with a grin. “Dera’s been cranky lately and hearing you use his mate’s name without invitation isn’t gonna help him calm down any.”

“Takeshi’s right, Dino-ni. I can accept your apology because I know it was an honest mistake, but you’ve been in Japan long enough to learn how our manners work.” Tsuna paused his scolding and sipped his tea to let that implied reprimand sink in. “We don’t tend to expect much from foreign humans, but you’re a Hanyou, and a Heavenly King, and so you’re automatically held to different standards.”

“Er…” Dino blinked and looked startled. “I’ve been rude?”

“More like deliberately insulting!” With a bright grin displaying all his teeth Takeshi snickered meanly as Dino’s face fell. “I mean, using Hibari-sempai’s name like that, when Dera’d already made it obvious that they were mated… I’m not even much of Queen and I still got upset!”

“Explain that.” Xanxus cut in as Dino sputtered. “Storm-trash is male. Can’t be a queen.”

“Mmhmm.” Tsuna tucked his feet under him and flushed a little. “This is _weird_. You’re all adults, and I _know_ that Dino-ni and Romario-san have that sort of relationship… um. The gender your human blood takes doesn’t really… limit anything. It influences the demon blood, a little. So a lot of the times boys are Toms, and most of the times girls are Mollies but there’s… a lot of leeway. Boys can still be Queens, and girls can still be Sires. Sometimes people are like Takeshi and can be both at once. Sometimes people shift back and forth. And sometimes people are neither. It all depends on the person.”

“So there are male Queens? Proper breeding Queens that are actually men?” Squalo squinted at Tsuna in suspicion. Dino choked on his drink, looking panicked, and Romario’s face was very carefully kept blank. “How does that work?”

“Magic.” Was Tsuna’s deadpan reply, like he could not believe they did not already know the answer to this question. “In a pride Queens are… they’re the ones who organize the pride. They decide who lives and who dies. They’re the ones who decide when kittens are old enough to hunt on their own, and which Toms are going to become the Sire for their litter.”

“That’s… a lot.” Massimo tapped the side of his mug. “What’s left for a Sky to do?”

“Rule.” In response to their frustrated looks, Tsuna just shrugged. “I’m the pride leader, and the one who binds us all in Harmony. I’m the one who meets with other Heavenly Kings to decide if we can be peaceful neighbors, or perhaps even join as a colony to enlarge our territory. Or if we will need to go to war in the worst-case.”

“Huh.” Massimo looked around at the unusually large gathering of Skies and thought that through with the addition of Tsuna’s unique take on the logistics of the situation. “So _we_ are welcome here, even if we are outsiders and intruding Skies.”

“Mmhmm. Dino-ni’s a bit weird, and some of the things he does a really _strange_ , but he _is_ a horse so… we were expecting that, kinda, and it’s okay. There’s no competition between us because his territory is really far from Namimori, so we can forgive a lot of trespasses and mistakes.” Smiling sheepishly at Dino’s crestfallen expression, Tsuna ducked his head with a blush. “Ah, my cousins are easier to get along with. You act right, when you aren’t trying too hard to be human. Our Skies meshed right from the start.”

“True. Felt it that’s first day. Resonance.” Xanxus clarified his thoughts at the sight of Enrico’s raised brow. “Comfortable here. Easy to relax.”

“And I’d be able to do the same in any territory under your control, Xanxus-itoko.” Smiling, Tsuna nodded at the Wrath Sky. “Because our prides are one colony now and our Youkai instincts know that.”

“I’m glad, little cousin!” Federico beamed and leaned forward. “But can we go back a little? You said Queens keep the Pride functioning smoothly and manage interpersonal things within the Family. Makes sense! And your Right Hand is a Queen, which makes even _more_ sense. But! Where does your girlfriend fit in?”

“Kyoko-chan is a Queen too, but…” Tsuna bit his lip, searching for the words to explain the things all of the Japanese shifters just _knew_ were true instinctively. How bad _was_ Italy, that his cousins needed their instincts and their own _minds_ explained to them like this? “Kyoko-chan is the Queen for home, for the heart of our territory. A Queen who manages kittens and Toms and Mollies, and doesn’t stray out into the cold. She’ll hunt, but she won’t range out too far from the center.”

“Hm. So are there different kinds of Queens?” Federico inquired curiously, his expression distant and thoughtful. “So then, what kind of Queen is your Storm?”

“Hayato-kun is a Queen who goes to _war_. Who commands even the other Queens without contest to his authority to do so. Who stalks and kills and leaves _nothing_ of the enemy behind.” Grinning wry and fond at the thought of his Storm, Tsuna bounced a little in his seat. “That’s why it’s so _amazing_ that Hayato-kun mated with Kyouya-sempai! They’re both so picky, and they’ve got such high standards that I didn’t think they’d _ever_ decide on a mate. But they chose each other!”

“Hahaha, yeah! They’ve got a lot in common.” Takeshi grinned at Tsuna, Sharing his excitement. “The most dangerous youkai in the pride, too! We really should’ve been expecting it after the way their first meeting went.”

“What do you mean by ‘ _dangerous_ ’?” Romario demanded sharply, patience at an end. “And why did Dino need antivenin for _cat scratches_?”

“Um?” Tsuna blinked, wide-eyed and startled and deceptively harmless. “Because they are? You’ve seen them both shift!”

“Little bro, I’ll admit that the spines were a bit of a surprise, but Kyouya’s quills are only a few inches long. They aren’t that big a deal.” Dino eyed the blank expression on Tsuna’s face in steadily mounting concern. “And Smoking Bomb is a house cat. I get that the Japanese have some scary stories about cats, but…”

Whimpering, Tsuna hid his face in his hands and groaned. “Kami-sama no _wonder_ you didn’t take them seriously when they told you to back off. A _house cat_. Really? Dino-ni how are you not _dead yet_?”

“Man, I was wondering that too!” Takeshi patted Tsuna on the back, his grin sharpening with near-threat. “I mean, Dera’s got _really_ good control over his youkai, but Hibari-sempai doesn’t really bother with that most of the time. He doesn’t think humans are worth the effort. I guess he was having fun hunting you, Dino-san! And it’s really up to Dera and Tsuna to let you live after intruding. You aren’t _actually_ family like the Vongola, and Reborn doesn’t have any _actual_ authority here. Him inviting you into Tsuna’s territory could’ve gone _really_ bad if Tsuna hadn’t decided he wanted to be friends with you!”

“Mmh. Dino-ni’s nice, he just doesn’t think like a cat does.” Dropping his hands, Tsuna was only pouting a little as he examined Dino curiously. “How _did_ you manage to touch Hayato-kun without Kyouya-sempai ripping your arm off, Dino-ni? Hayato-kun’s heat may be over now, but Kyouya-sempai will still be touchy about sharing pleasure with others for a bit longer. They probably need a few more weeks still for them to settle into their mating.”

“Ah, I didn’t. Touch Smoking Bomb that is.” Dino admitted with a blush. The Japanese changelings were really quite a bit more open about certain personal habits then the Italian shifters were used to. Case in point being the lecture Tsuna had given on Shifter genders (which had mostly boiled down to ‘shifters gender is whatever they feel like it being’. Which Dino was going to need to discuss properly with Romario and his other Guardians later. Dino did not like to think that he had made them feel obligated to be his mares if they preferred otherwise.) Meanwhile Dino still had never quite gotten around to telling the rest of the Alliance that he already had five children, one each out of the five Guardians he had. Honestly, Dino had thought it was something unique to the Cavallone. Especially given the way Xanxus and Squalo were obviously together but had never shown signs of sharing a heat. “Kyouya kept between me and Smoking Bomb the whole time. They were pretty, don’t get me wrong, and I did have fun, but I realized pretty quickly once we were done that there was something… off. I don’t really know how to say it, but I wouldn’t call us lovers.”

“I know you don’t want to hear this, but that was probably for the best.” Patting Dino’s knee, Tsuna smiled gently. “Now I’m going to ask Bianchi-ne to come over and show you why your continued existence is such a kami-blessed _miracle_.”

=/=

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... So that's what happens when I try to write porn without feeling the heat. Hm. This has been a learning experience. Also it would appear that I enjoy poking fun at Dino more than I enjoy getting him off, haha! ^_^;
> 
> ... Yeah, so I'm just going to pretend I did the FtB on purpose because Aoife was talking about wanting to write the threesome. Yep. Sounds good. That's my story and I stickin' to it. XP
> 
> (I'm laughing at myself because the scene where Hayato realizes that he's pregnant and he and Kyouya 'celebrate' is much steamier than this bit of nonsense. ♥)


	4. Even the King of Beasts serves his Queen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gokudera Hayato is a Queen, and he does not take _kindly_ to those who oppose his rightful authority.
> 
> Meddle not in the affairs of Manticores, because you are crunchy and they won't even _bother_ with finding the ketchup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a shameless, easily corrupted degenerate and this is basically mostly all porn.
> 
> ... Have fun. ^_^

=/=

**(A Queen doth command.)**

"You should make up your mind, Kurokawa." The words were goading, even if the tone they were delivered in was unusually soft.

Tearing her eyes away from the purpling bruises covering the back of Gokudera's neck, Hana glared at the silver hanyou. "What do you mean?"

"About what you want." Green eyes gleamed above a smug smirk. "There's a _reason_ female cats are called Queens. And every Tom know why."

"What makes you think I..." Hana's eyes narrowed in response to her wariness, and the Manticore's smirk grew wider. "I'm _not_ hanyou."

"If you say so." Gokudera shrugged, drawing new attention to the bite marks layered on his shoulders. Hana ignored the way her gut twisted, jealousy and something far more primal, something that hissed and spat at a _rival_ _issuing challenge_. A growling rage that inexplicably settled down with a placated grumble when Ryohei ran by. Hibari chased after, arms uncovered for the first time in recent memory. For once, it was Ryohei's skin left unbroken, while Hibari was _covered_ in livid red scratches and wicked looking hickies. New bites layered over old that matched the age of the marks Gokudera was displaying so shamelessly with his scandalously low neckline. Hana paused, incredulous and left mute by the sight and the implications of the evidence. Gokudera snickered in her dumbfounded face. "Might want to rethink that conclusion, though."

“Hana-chan and _Onichan_?” Kyoko gasped, her eyes shining and hands clasped together as she _beamed_ at Gokudera, ginning like someone had handed her a full platter of Sawada-san’s special cookies _just_ for her. “Oh, Hayato-kun, _really_?”

“You know I don’t lie about these things, Kyoko-hime.” Gokudera pushed his hair back with one hand, still watching Hana out of the corner of his eye and looking far too smug about whatever he was picking up from her silence. “It’s all really up to Kurokawa though. You know how it works.”

“Mmm.” Kyoko looked deeply thoughtful in a way Hana had learned to be wary of, especially after Kyoko had woken her youkai side when they were children. “What do you think, Hana-chan?”

“Don’t you _dare_ , Kyoko.” When her best friend turned that calculating look on Hana herself, and Hana could only feel exasperation. Yes, cat’s were predators but… Hana had never felt the nervousness even the most oblivious of their classmates experienced when trapped in the hanyou’s sights. Which… huh. Actually lent some weight to Gokudera’s insinuations. Damn it. Hana had been enjoying the awe that came with being the human capable of keeping up with Hanyou antics. Still, there had to be _some_ benefit found in waking any youkai blood she might have. If nothing else, it would be interesting to see what mythos she was descended from. Gokudera would be useful for tracking that information down, at least.

Hana just wanted to be clear on one point. She was _not_ doing this because she was hot for Ryohei! Hana would wake her youkai blood because it was what _she wanted to do with her life_ and no other reason would apply!

So there!

=/=

**(A Queen’s favour is often courted.)**

Hayato woke slowly, relaxed and languid and surrounded by the heady scent of his mate. The initial mating Heat had been a fun and educational week, and it seemed like Hayato’s little game with the Cavallone’s Stallion had borne fruit. Before his nap, a snickering Bianchi had called Hayato to let him know that Kyouya had invaded the sibling’s shared apartment with a swarm of minions.

/…/

_“Congratulations on leveling up your relationship, little brother!”_

_“Please tell me you’re the one who packed up my munitions.”_

_“Don’t worry so much! Your Tom’s on top of things! Very manly, that one!”_

_“Don’t tease Kyouya too much, sister. And make sure they’re careful with my chemistry supplies!”_

_“I promise, Hayato! Take care!”_

_“Ja ne, Bianchi.”_

/…/

There was a tiny bit of guilt over leaving his sister to live alone, but between the attentions of the Vongola Heir and the way Bianchi was eyeing the Bovino Tomcat that followed the third-born Vongola brother around… Bianchi was not going to be alone for long. Not any longer than she _wanted_ to be alone, at any rate.

Besides, given what Hayato had suspected would be the result of his Heat, and then confirmed only this morning… Kyouya was _not_ going to let Hayato stray far from their den for a while.

Purring softly, Hayato stretched out, splaying his body out over the soft sheets and fluffy duvets. Kyouya was a complete hedonist, as most cats tended to be. Much to his new mate’s delight, Kyouya was shameless about indulging his finer tastes in the privacy of his den. A fact that Hayato took many unrepentant joys in.

Curling into a ball on his side, Hayato pet his own stomach. Glee and triumph made him want to go hunt his mate down, but instinct all but _demanded_ he remain in his nest. At least until his mate arrived. Experience had proven rather harshly at times that the better option was to work _with_ the youkai instincts until he fully understood the reason for them.

Staying denned it was. The secret Hayato nurtured close was far too precious to risk by making stupidly prideful decisions.

The shuffling and thumping on the ground floor was finally dying down, and Hayato hid the stupid grin on his face in his pillow. His mate was _ferociously_ private. For Kyouya to pull something like _this_ …

Hayato was far too gleeful about the success of his plotting to take any sort of offense over the presumption.

Kusakabe’s voice echoed up from downstairs, a little louder than normal and almost teasing in tone. A familiar growl responded, and the front door closed quickly, Kyouya’s Committee minions scurrying away post haste.

Hayato tilted his head just enough to clearly see the bedroom door. A moment later his mate stalked through, a familiar threadbare velvet pouch swinging from one hand. Ignoring Hayato’s curious gaze, Kyouya headed for the vanity set in the corner. A beautiful antique jewelry box was pulled out of the closet without fanfare. It was inlaid with mother-of-pearl and embossed with gold, matching the rest of the décor perfectly. Extravagant without being overt, which was Kyouya all over.

Setting the jewelry box on the vanity countertop, Kyouya upended the velvet bag, dumping all of Hayato’s jewelry inside in a jangle of chains.

… Ah. Hayato had wondered about that. Kyouya had never seemed like the type to use a vanity, and the drawers had been suspiciously empty when Hayato had explored the room earlier. The silly Tom must have been planning something like this from the day after Hayato walked into his nest and demanded to be claimed. Gods, but Hayato loved his mate.

Tossing the now-empty bag aside, Kyouya turned and frowned at Hayato. “You did not attend classes.”

“I tested out of High School last April.” Hayato yawned and rolled over onto his back. “I go to class to socialize and practice my Japanese. You knew this already, Kyouya. I know you pulled my file.”

“Hn.” Kyouya admitted to nothing, arms folded across his pleasingly muscular chest as he stared down at Hayato. Authoritative was a very nice look on him, and Hayato ogled his mate in open appreciation for a moment.

“Kyouya. Mate.” Arms lifted over his head, Hayato arched his back, raising one knee to widen the gape of his untied yukata. “Come _here_.”

“Shameless.” Kyouya accused as he stripped out of his uniform with brisk efficiency. “Greedy.”

“With a mate so fine, can you blame me?” Eager to share the news, Hayato pulled Kyouya down into their nest the moment his Tom was in reach. He caught his mate’s hands before they could wander, as was their wont, and pressed them down to his navel. “Look. _Feel_.”

A moment of concentration was all it took to calm the multi-faceted hurricane of his Flames, and Hayato kept his eyes locked on Kyouya’s face. Waiting. Blank and un-emotive by human standards, but Hayato knew the _exact_ moment Kyouya realized what lay under their palms.

“ _Wao_.” Lantern-bright with focus, Kyouya stared at Hayato’s exposed abdomen like he could see through the skin. Cloud Flames _roared_ to life, curling wild and possessive around each of the six little lights Hayato had just introduced to their Sire. From the glint of crimson that was nearly invisible while surrounded by Hayato’s scarlet, to the flicker of indigo that stood out so proudly. Out of place and tasting so much of Kyouya that it was enough to alert Hayato to his own condition. “… Cubs.”

“ _Six_ cubs, you goddamned _Cloud_ with your _multiplying_. I’m going to get _huge_.” Another wave of Cloud Flames flooded over him, vast as a desert night and laying undeniable claim. Hayato hiccupped in surprise. They were still so _small_ , those little lights. Hayato had not noticed how they were drawing on his own Flame reserves until some of the drain eased off. “Oh, yes. Keep doing that.”

“Amazing mate.” Voice rough and deep, Flames proud and possessive, Kyouya pressed Hayato down into the pillows. Kissed him deep and biting as the last of their clothes were stripped of and cast away. Kyouya’s hands reluctant to leave Hayato’s skin, always circling back to stroke the skin around his navel. “Best Queen. So strong, my own.”

“It helps to have a mate worthy of making the effort for.” Gasping, Hayato arched his neck into Kyouya’s bite. His thighs spread wide around Kyouya’s hips, Hayato squirmed restlessly. Claws in his mate’s back, Hayato twisted enough to sink his teeth into Kyouya’s jaw with a grin and a goad. “ _Kyouya_ , stop teasing and get _in me_.”

“I know what you want.” Kyouya drew back, ignoring Hayato’s displeased hiss and took Hayato by the hips. “Roll over and get on your knees, Hayato.”

“ _Fine_ , just fuck me!” Pulling his hair aside so he could glare over his shoulder, Hayato arched his back. On display the way he _knew_ Kyouya liked.

“Shameless, _greedy_ little Queen.” Kyouya accused again, pulling Hayato’s hips higher so he could lean in and drag a rough tongue over the slickness of his mate’s slit all the way up over the tight furl of his hole. Hayato squeaked in reaction, his raised shoulder dropping and hips tilting eagerly into Kyouya’s grip. The scent of Hayato’s want grew thicker in the air, and he could feel Kyouya’s satisfied smirk against his skin as the Cloud licked up the fresh flood of slick. “So _demanding_. Never satisfied.”

“Kyouya, _please_.” Hayato mewled in frustration as Kyouya hummed thoughtfully, lips dragging over sensitive skin. Thumbs traced his slit, gathering moisture and drawing it up to rub thoughtfully against his hole. Kyouya kept pressing and tugging at his rim without ever sliding inside where Hayato _wanted_ him right _now_. “Please, I need you!”

“I know what you _need_ , Hayato.” Dragging his teeth up Hayato’s spine, Kyouya slotted his cock between Hayato’s thighs. The barbs were fully extended, catching at Hayato’s rim and teasing more slick from his slit. Kyouya set his teeth in Hayato’s nape, riding out the surge of motion from his Queen that faded into frustrated whimpers when he remained empty. Scraping his teeth against Hayato’s skin with a chuckle, Kyouya nosed silver hair aside to growl into Hayato’s ear. “You made _sure_ I knew, every time I mounted you. Using your Flames to stay so tight I had to _take_ you each time. Staying so _small_ that day you lured me to the roof. The attention you paid the horse, even second hand, even when you wanted to tear his throat out.”

“The fuck are you sayi-eeyah!” Mist Flames flared against his rim, pulling him open and flooding him with slick as Kyouya sank his cock in to the root in a single savage thrust. Shivering in reaction, Hayato went limp as the barbs dragged slickly over his prostate, sending sharp shocks of pleasure up his spine. Rolling his hips back into each thrust, Hayato laughed around a moan. “Finally figured out, _ah!_ How lube works, ha?”

“Hm. You’re going to need it, this time.” The dark tone made Kyouya’s promise into a threat of the very _best_ kind. It was almost a reflex at this point to call up Sun and Lightning _just_ enough to prevent unsexy damage. Sharp teeth in his nape, in the muscle of his shoulders, the sharp sensation of his Tom laying claim heightening his pleasure as his mate’s Flames roared through him.

Kyouya reared up, claws in his hips, hauling Hayato back into the next thrust. “ _Kyouya!_ ”

_Yowling_ as he clawed at the sheets, Hayato just tried to keep breathing as his mate’s cock pulsed with Cloud Flames and _grew_ , wider and thicker with each thrust. Spreading him open wide and _wider_. So wide, so deep, the barbs plucking at his tight-stretched rim, catching on his prostate with every shift of Kyouya’s hips. The next thrust _wrenched_ orgasm from him, his body trying and _failing_ to clench down as Hayato spilled across the sheets.

Kyouya _snarled_ , following Hayato down, cock growing larger _again_ as heat spilled slick and thick inside him. Hayato was still trembling with aftershocks when Kyouya hauled him up, back arched into his mate’s chest as a strong arm was locked under his ribs to keep him upright and his own weight forced him down further on his mate’s heavy cock. Stars burst across his vision and he _screamed_ as the oversized barbs _raked_ over his prostate.

“My pretty little Queen.” Rough voiced and growling, Kyouya dragged a raspy tongue over the skin of Hayato’s bared throat. “Always so eager. Wanton for me. _My_ mate.”

“Yours.” Hayato choked out, his head falling further back and keening with every roll of Kyouya’s hips. “Oh, _oh_ , all yours, _Kyouya_!”

Desperate for something to hold as Kyouya kept fucking up into his body, almost too big to take any more, Hayato arched further back, both hands fisted behind his head and clinging to the hafts of Kyouya’s fanned quills.

Extended wide and looming, on full display, the serrated edges were well away from Hayato’s clinging grasp. Kyouya groaned in appreciation as Hayato’s desperate yanks gained strength. The arm wrapped around his ribs dropped, Kyouya’s hands clamping bruise-tight on Hayato’s hips, the slick sound of Kyouya’s enlarged cock being forced into his stretched hole over and over again loud and filthy in his ears.

Hayato wailed through another orgasm, his voice broken and _wrecked_ as his body felt. Eyes rolling back in his head as the world went white and his body shook. Shaking and shaking as the muscles of his abused passage tried to wring down on his mate’s giant cock, each twitch and flutter only leaving him more sensitive to the invasion of his body. Wrecked and over-stimulated as Kyouya snarled, teeth sinking into the meat of his shoulder as he pulsed and came, filling Hayato with wet heat that left him swollen and dripping around the wide root of his mate’s cock.

The barbs were flared wide, locking Kyouya inside as he flooded his mate’s passage with his cum. Shaking, pinned upright by a cock in his ass and his mate’s teeth at his throat, Hayato mewled as he was filled. Feeling Kyouya trace the outline of his own cock through the skin of his belly, Hayato hazily wondered when his mate had discovered he had kinks.

=/=

**(The wrath of the Queen is to be feared.)**

Hayato was overreacting.

Even as he stormed away from the Cavallone Don, Hayato _knew_ that he was overreacting. He was pregnant, not brain-dead. There was no _reason_ for Hayato to be losing his temper like this. Hayato had not even been raised Japanese. It was _ridiculous_ for him to snap like this.

Those facts said and acknowledged, if the _gods damned fucking Bronco_ called _Hayato’s mate_ by his given name _without express permission_ one more _fucking_ time!

… Hayato needed to go calm down before he _actually_ followed through on his threat to tear the prancing show pony’s throat out. _With all three sets of his teeth_. He was starting to regret playing nice. It had taken some doing on his part to redirect Kyouya’s aggression over the stallion’s circling into something less… lethally _guaranteed_ to spark a war. That _this_ was how the Cavallone Don had taken Hayato’s generosity!

Snarling, Hayato’s tail lashed from side-to-side as he stalked a straight line for where he could feel his mate waiting for him. The Bronco’s ham-fisted fumble of an apology had not come at a good time. Hayato had been twitchy and irritated all day without a logical reason to be seen. Which only irritated him _more_. Then for the Bronco to all but _demand_ Kyouya’s location while using _Hayato’s mates_ personal name as if he had _any_ gods damned _right_!

Air hissed between the needle-sharp points of gritted teeth in a muffled shriek of rage. Hayato passed by a very pale Committee mook and barely managed to reign in his temper enough to avoid burning him.

Or stinging. Stinging humans was bad. Stinging humans who belonged to his mate and did _not_ deserve to get dissolved from the inside out was _extra_ bad. Kyouya would be upset.

Hayato paused and glanced over his shoulder, but the quaking minion had already escaped. The Manticore pouted. So much for _that_ plan.

Never mind. Hayato was clever. He could come up with a way to annoy his mate _without_ any undue destruction of property. Now, how to go about irritating Kyouya into a frame of mind that resulted in Hayato getting punished.

_Sexy_ punishment. Hayato sighed, eyes a little glazed as he shook his head and resumed walking. His mate really was very much the strutting Tomcat, and he had such _lovely_ hands. It was completely understandable for Hayato to keep coming up with creative ways to get those hands all over him.

Dino Cavallone would just have to satisfy himself with the one time opportunity he had been granted. Apology or no apology. Hayato doubted that he had the self-control to avoid stinging the stallion on purpose if Bronco pressed his attentions again. Although the liaison had, at the very least, served the dual purpose of getting Tsuna-sama involved in making the other Sky back off and satisfying Kyouya’s curiosity regarding the Bronco. There was a _much_ smaller chance of Kyouya _actually_ biting the Cavallone Don to death and starting a war between their Famiglia after fucking him.

Prey was not for sex, so anyone they indulged themselves with was therefore not prey. For the low price of a mildly kinky threesome, Hayato avoided all the messy complications of a highly aggressive apex predator getting annoyed by a dumb herbivore! Yay!

Hayato _still_ did not _appreciate_ anyone but _him_ thinking they could breed with _Hayato’s mate_. Especially not some stupid _horse_ with his brain in his balls!

Temper roused once again, Hayato realized that he knew _exactly_ what to do to tease his mate’s temper.

Served him _right_ for eyeing the Bronco _back_ in the first place. Hayato was more than enough for _anyone_ and it was time to _prove that point_ to his Kyouya.

Wearing a grin that only his sister would find reassuring, Hayato bounded forward with new enthusiasm. He made the _best_ plans!

/…/

Tetsuya was the last member of the Discipline Committee to leave the grounds. The warning about Haya-san’s approach and apparent bad temper had come none too soon.

Alerting Kyou-san, who had already seemed to be aware, and then clearing the area had delayed Tetsuya enough to catch sight on Haya-san in his full youkai form. Just seeing a Leopard standing three meters high at the shoulder would be bad enough. The wicked curl of a Scorpion’s tail, stringer dripping venom, pincers curled and snapping by the fanged jaw like a pair of restless snakes, and the crawling crimson flames that lit the air with a blood red glow was frankly _terrifying_ enough for Tetsuya to stop breathing. Even when he had seen Haya-san hunting before. Even when he _knew_ Haya-san would never hunt him. Even when he _knew_ that Haya-san would never harm him. That did _not_ stop the visceral reaction to seeing a genuine man-eater prowl by.

Shaking with adrenaline, Tetsuya set a brisk pace _away_ from where Kyou-san was waiting for Haya-san. Kami-sama, he was _never_ going to get used to seeing youkai in the flesh. Haya-san tended to favour the tiny, kittenish disguise form so much that it was easy to forget _exactly what_ he was, but…

Well. Kyou-san was arguably the _least_ human of all the Namimori hanyou, and that Haya-san was the mate he had chosen was _very telling_.

/…/

Hayato hit his mate like a hurricane. Relentless, destructive, and unhesitating.

The _highly offended_ yowl as one hundred pounds of napping bobcat was bowled over by over two tons of fully expressed Manticore was _just_ as entertaining as Hayato had expected it to be!

To his credit, Kyouya recovered quickly. Cloud Flames roared to life as the mortal-seeming wildcat was replaced by the full demonic splendor of the Cactus Cat. Pitch black but for the baleful glow of his eyes and gleaming white fangs and the neon-bright banding at the end of the meters long quills that warned of the neurotoxins coating each serrated point. Two meters tall at the shoulder and only that small because Hayato had been _demanding_ of his mate’s attention and energy lately for the sake of their growing cubs.

Growling playfully, Hayato pounced.

Kyouya hissed and flipped them over. Twisting to give as good as he got while being careful of his mate’s underbelly. The razor-edged flail of Kyouya’s tail left deep rents in the ground but never so much as brushed Hayato’s fur. Hayato snapped cheerfully at his mate’s ears with teeth and pincers, chuffing in amusement when Kyouya got his hind legs up to kick at Hayato’s shoulders in retaliation.

They tussled like kittens for a few minutes. Turning into a rapidly twisting ball of fur and far too many sharp pointy edges.

Hayato got his teeth into Kyouya’s nape, feeling the quills scrape across the segmented armour plating hidden under the velvet of his underbelly. Locking his front paws around Kyouya’s shoulders, Hayato wiggled his hips. Time to repay his mate’s consideration. Yes, there was good.

This was going to be fun!

Kyouya went still, rumbling something half query and half warning. Purring in response, Hayato flexed his hips, sheathing himself in his mate’s body with a determined press. Halfway in and he released a spurt of slick fluid, easing the way deeper and shivering in reaction. His mate was tight and hot and _yowling_ his enjoyment of the penetration.

Chirruping in pleasure, Hayato pressed as deep as he could get before releasing another load of slick into Kyouya’s passage before going almost completely still. The grumbling from Kyouya was both amused and offended.

Hayato’s eyes lidded in a pleased cat-smile, and he started rocking his hips without pulling too far from Kyouya’s body. His silly mate still had not noticed!

Groaning in relief, Hayato mewled as the first egg dropped, squeezed down the length of his ovipositor and was forced deep into Kyouya’s body. The Cloud _shrieked_ as the heavy orb ground over his prostate, and their mating got _much_ more energetic.

The frenzied violence of their movements together pulled the eggs out faster, pushed them deeper. Kyouya _yowled_ with every orb deposited in his twitching passage. Hayato snarled, reaffirming his grip on Kyouya’s nape to keep him in place.

The eggs would not catch, would never take, and he knew that. Not only were all of Hayato’s reproductive energies bound up in the litter Kyouya had planted in him weeks ago, but also Kyouya would need to be receptive first. As lovely as his mate was, Hayato was well aware that Kyouya was almost _comically_ a stereotypical strutting Tomcat. Even if Kyouya _were_ receptive, Hayato would be leery of having Kyouya carry their litter. A nice fantasy, but the reality would be somewhat more complicated.

No, _Hayato_ was the Queen here. Any kittens they had together would grow inside _him_ where they _belonged_. That did not mean that Hayato could not get a little bit of his own back though.

Groaning, Hayato shuddered and released a final egg, feeling in press up against the others, and followed it with a flood of sticky fluids. Ovipositor retracting, Hayato flopped over on his side, chest heaving. Kyouya hissed out a groan, twisting to bite at Hayato’s ears. The Cactus Cat’s cock was wet with cum and half-sheathed, and Hayato was pleased by the visible signs of his mate’s enjoyment of their activities.

Pawing Kyouya close, Hayato purred and settled in to groom his mate clean. It was his fault Kyouya was so messy anyhow. A few minutes of pointed huffing later, Kyouya returned the favour, lingering over Hayato’s belly with half-lidded eyes and a self-satisfied air.

Imminently pleased with the success of his plan, Hayato curled up with his mate to nap in the warm morning sunshine. Bronco was in for a _nasty_ surprise if he tried to plant a foal in Hayato’s mate. Stupid herbivore, this would show him.

Purring in renewed good humour, Hayato nuzzled his mate’s jaw. Eyeing his Queen in clear suspicion, Kyouya rumbled and chinned him. With a wide yawn, Hayato put his head down on his paws. Kyouya’s head was a reassuring weight across his back. His Tom was on watch, and Hayato slipped easily into a doze, secure in the knowledge that Kyouya would keep them safe.

/…/

The morning was edging towards afternoon when Hayato woke up for the second time that day. Finally calm enough to wear a human skin again. Kyouya was glaring at him in clear irritation.

“Hayato.” His Tom had several new claim bites layered over his shoulders, and his abdomen was swollen enough to make most regular movements uncomfortable. “Explain.”

Oops. Hayato winced, clearheaded enough to feel apologetic even if not entirely remorseful.

“It was Bronco again.” Hayato sighed and pulled a hand through his hair as he tried to sort out the tangle of instinct and emotion enough to explain it to his mate. “I know he doesn’t really mean anything by it. He’s a Sky and a Stallion and that’s just how his species _works_ but the idea of him wanting to breed you when you’re _my mate_ pissed me off.”

“Hn. Foolish mate.” Kyouya pinned Hayato to the ground, teeth on the human-shaped Manticore’s willingly bared throat in a reassuring claim. “Silly Queen, fretting over the attentions of a _herbivore_.”

“Mm, _yours_.” Hayato sighed, wrapping his arms around his Tom and basking in the attention. The wicked gleam in poison green eyes was enough to make Kyouya wary, especially after being stuffed full of eggs and plugged that way. The Tom glared suspiciously at his mate as Hayato laughed. “Ah, well. Bronco got warned off your Cloud by Tsuna-sama. Which should be enough for any intruding Sky. And _this_.” Pianist fingers drummed on the tight skin of Kyouya’s swollen gut. “Should be enough to dissuade the stallion. Indulge me? Just for today?”

Kyouya’s expression turned thoughtful. “This will stop the herbivore’s crowding?”

“Mmhm. You might even be able to get Bronco in a fighting mood, once he stops thinking of you as a mare to be courted.” The glee that lit his Tom’s expression at that made Hayato giggle.

“Naughty mate.” Despite the mild chiding, Kyouya’s eyes were admiring as he lifted Hayato’s hips and sank in between eagerly spread thighs. “Wicked little Queen.”

“Mm, yes. I’ve been _bad_.” Shameless in seeking more pleasure, Hayato pulled his mate closer and rocked eagerly into each thrust. “Ah!”

Pinned and filled and _claimed_ , Hayato moaned into Kyouya’s mouth as his mate’s thick cock sank deep, barbs catching on every sensitive cluster of tender nerves in his slit and setting them singing. His own cock was pinned between their bellies, and the swollen curve of his mate’s gut pressed it tighter than normal.

Without pause, Kyouya pulled one of Hayato’s legs up, knee thrown over the Tom’s shoulder. Two fingers sank into his hole, spreading him in a sharp flare of sensation before curling to press against his prostate with merciless accuracy.

A yowling shriek announced Hayato’s orgasm, and Kyouya _snarled_ against his Queen’s neck as his mate’s body clamped down and _demanded_ his cum. Hayato shook, keening as Kyouya massaged his prostate, kept it pinned between the pressure of fingers and cock. Despite the cum now leaking out from around his cock, Kyouya did not stop, kept fucking deep as he could get into his Queen with relentless force. Building them both back up without ever letting them come down. Hayato mewled into Kyouya’s kiss, invaded by teeth and tongue, body clenching tight as another orgasm _ripped_ through him, leaving him limp and shivering helplessly in the aftermath.

A soft growl and Kyouya shifted, fucking into Hayato’s over-stimulated body seeking his own release. “My pretty Queen. Want another?”

“Ha, yes! _Kyouya!_ ” Hayato gasped, overwhelmed in the best possible way and clawing at his mate’s back. “Want you! Come _on_.”

The barbs flared wide, locking Kyouya in deep as he pumped cum into his mate’s slack body. Hayato yowled, the sharp pleasure brought by the barbs, combined with the harsh shove of Kyouya’s fingers setting him off a third time.

Sprawled out under his mate, Hayato murmured softly in disappointment as Kyouya eased his fingers out of his ass, feeling his hole clench weakly in protest as he was left empty. Hayato hooked a loose hand around the back of his Tom’s head and tugged him into kissing range again. He liked the kisses, and it kept Kyouya from drawing away. Purring in contentment, Hayato let Kyouya ease his leg down and settled in to enjoy the comforting weight of his mate’s body over his, holding Kyouya in place with lingering kisses.

/…/

“Kyou-san.” Thankfully dressed, if in less well-fitted clothing than his usual semi-formal tastes, Kyouya’s eyes slit open just enough to glare at his Second in Command in irritation. His Hayato’s clever hands continued to massage his scalp and dulled the edge of displeasure over the interruption. If Tetsu’s news meant Kyouya would need to leave his mate’s lap and tender attentions, however… Tetsu carefully did not wince in the face of Kyouya’s upset. “Tokyo International just redirected an Italian flight towards the Namimori air-field. The plane is registered to Cavallone-san.”

A small tremor ran through the hands stroking Kyouya’s hair. The riotous Flames that Kyouya had _finally_ managed to settle into something close to calm contentment flared with renewed upset. A brewing hurricane that was focused and defensive and once again hiding Kyouya’s cubs from his senses.

So much for his nap.

So much for his lap pillow, too. Kyouya had been _enjoying_ that.

Someone, Kyouya swore to himself with an internal snarl, was getting _bitten to death_ for this!

=/=

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suspect than once I get closer to done with this story I'll sort it into proper chronological order. At this point in time, each scene within the chapter will be chronological, but the chapters themselves take place at various points in the timeline.
> 
> Is that understandable? Glad we had this talk. It was a good talk.
> 
> Anyway, wow. Way to show Uri's influence on your overall mindset, Hayato. ♥

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, that's right. I used the Shrodinger Principles to upend Time and Space and turned the entire complement of the Alliance's Tenth Generation notables into Nekojin.
> 
>  
> 
> _I regret nothing._
> 
>  
> 
> Also my kitten has been sitting on my shoulder for the entire time it took to post this and I took that as a sign. ♥

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Collection] Comment Fics for Sanjuno's "Cat's Paws"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12006951) by [Night-Mare (Aoife)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoife/pseuds/Night-Mare)
  * [[Collection] Mythological Creatures and Mating Heats](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12317166) by [Night-Mare (Aoife)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoife/pseuds/Night-Mare)




End file.
